Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain
by Lancer1968
Summary: Murdoch's Melancholy


Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain

Summary: Murdoch's Melancholy

Any and All Disclaimers Applicable

Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain, by Fred Rose

In the twilight glow I see them  
Blue eyes crying in the rain  
When we kissed goodbye and parted  
I knew we'd never meet again

Love is like a dying ember  
Only memories remain  
Through the ages I'll remember  
Blue eyes crying in the rain

Some day when we meet up yonder  
We'll stroll hand in hand again  
In a land that knows no parting  
Blue eyes crying in the rain

Now my hair has turned to silver  
All my life I've loved in vain  
I can see her star in heaven  
Blue eyes crying in the rain

Murdoch Lancer was not a man who sank to the rock bottom depths of despair often; he was much more a pragmatic individual than one prone to cater to the emotions of the mind. Yet here he was, recently shot in his back protecting what belonged to him. His foreman, Paul O'Brien had been killed, leaving his young daughter, Teresa, an orphan and him ordered by Doc Jenkins to stay off his feet as much as humanly possible; which would be as much as Murdoch Lancer would sanction.

"Give him one teaspoon of laudanum for his back pain before bed, Teresa," Doc Jenkins told the young girl. "No more than that, it's exceedingly addicting and that last thing you or I need on our hands is that bull-headed, stubborn old jackass…"

"I'm right here, Doctor," snapped Murdoch.

"Yes, I know, there's nothing wrong with my eyesight, Murdoch. Now, do try to be a good patient and listen to Teresa," he admonished him. "I'll be back, in a few days to check on his progress. Make sure you change that bandage twice a day, regardless of his disposition. Get a few hands in here to hold him down if you must. And he can sit-up a few times during the day as long as you protect his wound from too much pressure or motion. The first sight of blood draining on that bandage, his butt stays in that bed."

"Do I make myself clear?" Doc Jenkins challenged Murdoch.

"Crystal," he growled back.

Teresa looked at Murdoch, "He'll be the ideal patient," she promised.

"Good luck with that," Doc Jenkins said as he snapped closed his valise. "I've already given him a dose of laudanum; he should rest comfortably for the remainder of the night. Don't give him any coffee after he's had the laudanum…or any alcohol at all, while he's recovering."

"Yes, Doctor. Thank you, Doctor," she said as she walked him downstairs to the front door. "I take real good care of him."

"I know you will," he said as he patted her shoulder. "I'm so sorry about your father, lass. This is bad business, these land pirates. Someone has got to do something about them."

"I know. Thank you, again, Doctor," she said as her eyes misted.

# # #

Murdoch was like an edgy bull that had been cornered in small pen without any room to move. He snorted, dug in his heels and roared like he was going to charge the next person who attempted to assist him. The walk from his bedroom, down the stairs into the great room took him too long he complained. He wanted to use his long strides to get where he wanted to go but couldn't as he had to lean on Teresa and his cane for support.

Once in the great room, he sat in his leather chair near the fireplace that Teresa kept the roaring fire going, stoking it every ten minutes or so while he stared out the arched window towards the barn, the corral and out beyond the pasture towards the mountains. He worried and wondered, when would Day Pardee dare to all out attack Lancer? He knew it was coming, but when, dammit, when?

The effects of the laudanum slowed him down, made his brain fuzzy and he slept…a lot, during the day, which wasn't his nature. He also slept…a lot during the night with disturbing thoughts, not just of his ranch but of what he yearned for most of all…his absent family.

He had taken to staring hour upon hour at the small daguerreotype image he had of Catherine Garrett, his first wife, an easy-going, pleasant natured, light-haired, blue-eyed beauty, who had hailed from Boston. He imaged what their married life should have been. He wondered if their son, Scott, resembled her more than him, not having seen the boy since he was five-years old. He stared at the even smaller daguerreotype image of his second wife, Maria, of Mexican heritage, she was the exact opposite of his Catherine. Maria had been a firecracker, with her dark hair and brown eyes and a temperament that was quick to rise and slow to burn itself out. He wondered about their son, Johnny, what had become of the feisty, dark-haired, blue-eyed two-year old that he had last seen, where was the boy now?

In the twilight glow he could see them, all figments of his past, that he could reach his hands out to touch…thin air. Only his memories of them remain, lingering like the dying embers in his fireplace that he watched as smoke and tiny sparks rose from the heat to disappear into the night sky. He knew that outside of the window, high above his head, if he tried really hard he would see his wives' stars in the heavens, admonishing him for not having the arms, legs and guts to bring their sons home to their birthright. 

Yes, he was melancholy, he missed his wives, as his old blue eyes cried, he was aware that a light rain was falling outside the arched windows to match his glum mood. He decided that he must at all costs bring home his sons. He wanted them home. He needed them home. His deceased wives would have to wait for the day that they would meet up yonder where they could properly chastise him for his negligence. Until then this would be the land that knew no more parting of his family. It was high time that his sons came home. 

~Fin~

Sun Dancer

Note: Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain has been sung by many of the great country performers; Willie Nelson has in my opinion the best version.

With the modern concern about the possible over-use of opioids, it's instructive to note that those drugs were in heavy use (and abuse) in the Old West.

One of the most popular forms was laudanum, where opiates were mixed with alcohol for a liquid drug. It was often prescribed for various aches and pains—especially female complaints surrounding menstruation and childbirth. Laudanum was very habit forming and was often used to commit suicide. It didn't face government regulations until the turn of the 19th Century.


End file.
